


Accept/Celebrate

by Coffee_Flavored_Kisses



Series: Tumblr Drabbles and Prompts [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-12-01 19:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses/pseuds/Coffee_Flavored_Kisses
Summary: A prompt including the following phrase:“Aw, you’re so cute when you blush like that.”





	Accept/Celebrate

David’s hands are shaking a little as he hurries to make everything just right. Labels all facing forward, everything shiny, no fingerprints on the glass, everything all in a row. This meeting is important, and he’ll be damned if they don’t snag the one self-proclaimed “herbist” willing to give them exclusive rights. He’s been dying for some decent rosemary.

It isn’t until Patrick walks in more than fifteen minutes late that David sees something’s wrong. Patrick’s face says it all, and David falls into a chair when Patrick approaches him.

“They’ve got a place in Elmdale willing to split commission. We just can’t match that.”

David’s heart falls into his stomach, but he should have figured this wouldn’t work out. “I really thought he liked us…”

“He did,” Patrick insists, falling to his knees in front of David and placing his hands on top of his. “But he’s got a kid coming, and he can’t really afford to choose the people he likes over the people who’ll pay more.”

David nods, takes in a breath. “Well, I guess we opened on a Sunday for nothing, then.”

“No customers?” Patrick asks, rising to his feet and pulling David up with him.

“Just one, but all she got was a batch of those cookies that we put on sale.”

“Which ones were those?”

“The ones that taste like cardboard,” he says, gesturing toward them.

“Well at least we sold something. But hey, it’s late. We’ve got the rest of the evening. Let’s go home, watch a movie, have some tea…” He takes David’s hand and heads toward the door. “You know. Relax before we have to come back in the morning.”

David agrees, but then he stops just short of the door and carefully pulls his hand out of Patrick’s. “Actually, why don’t you go ahead? I’ll be right behind you.”

“If you wanna just walk home, I’ll walk with you.”

“No, it’s not that. I just need to, um…” he glances quickly toward the stock room. “I have to clean up some stuff.”

“What stuff? I’ll help you.”

“No, no,” David insists, and he’s insisting a little too much for Patrick’s liking. “It’s fine. I’ll get it.”

“Did you drop another box of those juices? I told you that you should really only move those when I’m here to help–”

“No, honey, no,” but Patrick’s already walking that way. “Don’t go in th–”

Patrick pushes back the curtain. Immediately, he sees why David hesitated.

“What is this?” he asks, the corner of his mouth turned upward.

David shrugs, a little embarrassed. “I… thought we’d be celebrating.”

Their old sofa they keep in the stock room is covered in a plush faux fur throw. There are scented candles in the windows, and there’s a bottle of zhampagne chilling beside the shelf. Patrick looks it all over again, then looks at David, who’s standing now with his arms crossed in front of him, leaning just inside the threshold to the room.

“You did this for us?” Patrick asks softly.

“I got _very_ enthusiastic,” David says with an embarrassed shake of his head. “It was impulsive and stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.”

“Well, we don’t have anything to celebrate, do we?” He marches over to the first window and blows out the candle, then to the next, but Patrick grips his arm before he can reach his destination.

Patrick looks into David’s eyes, and David into Patrick’s. It’s silent but comfortable. It’s familiar. It’s playful.

“What?” David whispers.

“You,” Patrick answers.

David smiles, but he stops himself.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you blush like that.”

David shakes his head again. “I’m embarrassed.”

“I know,” Patrick says, but he takes David’s face into his hands as he says it. He kisses him long and sweet, wraps David’s arms around him, wraps his own around David.

“We should go home…” David manages to say, his eyes still closed as he leans into another kiss.

“Why? We’ve got so much to celebrate.”

David melts against Patrick’s body and into the kiss, and they find their way to the couch and fall into it the way they did when they first decided a couch was a very sensible idea. Patrick crawls over David’s body and hooks his legs around him and hums against smiley kisses. He loves this man beneath him and he wants him to know it, wishes there were words – a single word – for this feeling of _you never need to worry with me, I love you, I will always love you_. But he’d have to say the whole thing, and he already has.

It has been months since they’ve done this, made love in this confined space so freely with everything they want to say to one another confined only to these hands on these bodies and these lips on these lips and sighs and whispers and moans and dreams and none of it ever needs to be put into words. David can see the future and it has nothing to do with vendors and herbists and commissions. It’s Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, with him doing anything at all or doing nothing. Pushing into his body and feeling truly received, savoring the taste and touch of skin that’s only ever known the love of one man, of him.

Spent and sore, they try to stretch when it’s over but end up tangled and laughing with a blanket caught between their half-naked bodies. David feels better now, good enough to poor them each a drink and giggle against a familiar body and talk about Monday morning stuff, mundane. To go home hand in hand and pretend they’ll have more opportunities soon. To love and to be loved, which is something he doesn’t take for granted. He’ll _never_ take it for granted.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: nbc-trialanderror


End file.
